After The Dying Fire
by xoUselessLesbianxo
Summary: After the attack on the Alexandrian's, the clean-up begins. Carol awaits for the others to come home, one person in particular. [ZA] [Caryl Friendship]


**AN: Okay so I've pretty much been reading Caryl fan fictions nonstop for the past couple of days and just had to get this down. I've been dying for the next episode set in Alexandria to see how they're progressing and I wanted to get this down before that's shown. This won't be a Caryl romance one-shot because I feel they aren't in the right place at this point in Alexandria, but it'll be fluff and friendship with a bit of angst due to the situation. First TWD fic, reviews and critiques are welcome. Set in season 6 just after the attack on Alexandria, just as the others are coming back.**

 **[ZA] [Caryl Friendship Fluff]**

 **Summary: After the attack on the Alexandrian's, the clean-up begins. Carol awaits for the others to come home, one person in particular. [ZA] [Caryl Friendship]**

 **After The Dying Fire**

It had been a few short hours since the attack on Alexandria had finally ended, the whole fight only lasting a total of forty minutes. Carol stood by her kitchen window, staring out at eerily quiet neighbourhood. The loss they had suffered was great. The total amount of victims constantly increasing as the bodies of both Alexandrian's and Wolves alike were complied, ready to be buried in the graveyard.

Carol had done what needed to be done; dressing up as one of the Wolves to survive the attack and protect her own people. Some would say a wolf in sheep's clothing. In the short amount of time since the attack she had seen the people who mattered to her; Carl and Judith, Michonne, Maggie, Tara and Rosita, and others who had been accepted into the group. Their group was her only concern.

Now as she stared out that window, her mind drifting to the others who were on the road. The horn that had sound during the attack would surely be enough to attract the attention of both the living and the dead within a 12 mile radius, causing the problem of the walkers attention being drawn to that of the survivors of Alexandria. She had enough faith in Rick and the others to know that they would do everything in their power to draw the herd away, but she knew to be ready for anything. So when the Wolves attacked, she'd come up with a plan to dress as one of them if only to survive and to keep her true self guarded. Those who knew Carol on the outside were aware of the real her but never said anything. They were family and they'd do anything to protect each other with whatever it took.

The slim woman thought of someone in particular, her best friend and confidante through their entire survival. Although they seemed to have drifted apart, Carol's new role in the community as a den mother clearly unsettled him, she still cared for the man as her teasing still remained, no matter how small. They were both busy these days, with her baking and keeping up appearances and him going on runs with Aaron to look for survivors. But that didn't mean they didn't care for one another. Over the years she had grown fond of the hunter, sharing glances and small touches to show that they cared and fully trusted each other. The others could see it between them, especially after Terminus when Carol was reunited with the group, Daryl being the first to grab her in a death grip, too afraid to let her go. Yes it was evident that they shared a special bond.

Carol forced the thought of the others out of her mind, filing a bucket of warm water before kneeling down on the floor to where a puddle of blood still remained from a body of a Wolf. They would just have to survive, like they always did. She scrubbed vigorously at the wooden boards, willing the stains from the floor to disappear, as if hoping to scrub clean of the attack and all the people she had killed. She did it for the right reason, to protect the others. But she was still human and struggled with the idea of killing.

As she was rinsing the sponge still caked with blood, she heard the familiar sound of a motorbike coming their way. A small strained smile appeared on her face as she turned her attention back out the window, where the motorcycle rumbled along the pavement at a slow pace, clearly taking in the disturbing sight. They hadn't gotten around to washing the footpaths and roads of the drying blood, only just having finished burying the bodies. A car followed close behind, also driving slowly with Sasha and Abraham. They pulled up not long after, the silence filling the community as soon as the engines were cut. Carol watched as they headed over to Deanna's house, clearly wanting to know what had transpired.

Carol continued on with her cleaning job once they were out of sight, busying herself with housework so she didn't have to think about anything at all. She heard the front door close as someone walked inside, heavy boots stomping on the hard wooden floors. She could see who it was immediately from the dirty ripped jeans and leather sleeveless jacket.

"I've cleaned most of the blood off the floor. There are a few things broken in the living room." Carol spoke calmly, as if nothing was out of the ordinary and cleaning blood was a daily chore. Perhaps it was now.

Daryl grunted in reply as he stepped further into the room, taking the bucket of dirty water and tipping it into the large bathtub. Without another word he filled the bucket, placing it back beside her as the warm water sloshed around inside.

"Thanks." Carol offered him a small smile, looking up at his tall form. She finished scrubbing the rest of the floor in silence before finally standing up, tipping the last bucket of dirty water down the tub.

"I'm glad you're okay." Carol finally spoke after moments of silence, leaning against counter. She hadn't let herself think about it too much, but with such a risky and crazy plan in action, she couldn't help but worry about him.

"Dixon's always survive." Daryl replied gruffly, repeating the mantra he and his brother had said right from the beginning. Carol put on another one of her smiles, giving a small nod in agreement.

"They do." She agreed, briefly putting her hand on his shoulder before slowly dropping it to her side once more. They sat in one of their comfortable silences, not needing words to say the rest. That she was happy he was home, or that he was glad that she wasn't harmed in the attack. As the silence stretched on Daryl finally shifted, heading towards the door but stopped, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"House looks good." Daryl complimented, showing her one of his rare smiles he only saved for her. Carol looked up from where she'd been staring at the ground, meeting his eyes as she moved away from the counter.

"And don't you forget it Pookie." Carol replied affectionately, an amused grin playing on her lips as she watched his smile shift into slight annoyance. Despite his clear disdain of the familiar nickname, he couldn't help but feel relieved. Maybe they could start over and get back what they once had after all.

Daryl shook his head in irritation and left the room, mumbling something like 'Dammi' woman'. Carol's throaty laugh rang out after him as she headed back into the kitchen and pulled out ingredients from the fridge, ready to bake one of many casseroles for the families who had all lost loved ones.

 **AN: Okay so I know there wasn't a lot exchanged between them, not like other Caryl fan fictions. But this was only thoughts and fluff and friendship. I'm also not overly familiar with these characters and had a little difficulty fitting in Daryl's accent so I do apologise if it's not accurate. I'm only an Aussie after all. As I said before, I wrote this just to get it out of my system since my feels were in overload and I couldn't take it any longer. Once again I'm sorry if I didn't capture the friendship as well as I could have, this was just a small scene/drabble of him coming home.**

 **Thank you all for readying :)**


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